Sunday, 27 December 2015

When I decided to devote most of my creative life to painting,
I was and continue to be inspired by an artist who worked/slaved in the field
of comic books, a field that was constantly derided and misunderstood by my “fine
art” instructors and peers. It was cool to quote Nietzsche and Derrida, but
better not to mention that you were into comics. I assume that nothing has
really changed in this regard, despite the lip service that the art world
condescends to give “low” culture every now and then.

Andrew Baron

Reaping the Whirlwind

oil on
canvas

142 x 213
cm (56 x 84 inches)

Much has been written about the life and work of Jack Kirby (b. 1917, d. 1994), a
titanic presence in comics from the early 40’s through the 80’s, so I won’t
attempt much of a recap of his career other than to say that he was the
architect and creator of numerous genres of comics, innumerable characters, and
thousands of stories. Beyond being the architect of much of the Marvel
universe, he created other more idiosyncratic (and arguably better) projects like
the New Gods in the 70’s. I should emphasize that because he left his stamp on
so many kinds of comics over such a long period (later mostly superhero and
science fiction, but also romance, horror and western genres), it is difficult
to exaggerate how instrumental Kirby was to the development of the grammar of
the comics medium.

When
I was a kid browsing through the comics rack at the local drugstore, I was
immediately drawn to and repelled by Kirby’s work. He had entered his mature
“later” period in the early 70’s, where his drawing had become more abstract
and propulsive. His work was not executed in the smooth, anodyne style that
characterized so many of his peers’ work. While other artists depicted their
super-powered characters as benevolent representatives from a public service
message, Kirby’s characters were heroic but not especially pretty and often
greatly conflicted.

They
seemed built to truly hand out a beat-down - agents of destruction and blunt
force, as if made from an aggregate of granite and twisted metal. His comics
were built from a reality that was different than the agreed-upon version that
I would see in ads, movies, television and other comics. Jack Kirby’s stories
just seemed to exist in their own universe, a universe ruled by violence,
tragedy and wonder with big feelings and concepts that deeply resonated with me
in a way that I could not and still cannot really pinpoint. And he created this
universe panel-by-panel, page-by-page. Much is said about Picasso’s
productivity, but he’s an absolute piker next to Jack Kirby, who created millions
of drawings in his lifetime (and of arguably more consistent quality).

Jack Kirby

Captain Victory #10

1983

Yes, you could and can dismiss his work as silly, with its
often-stilted operatic dialogue, its “unrealistic” portrayals of human anatomy,
outlandish concepts and defiance of physics. But I would argue that it’s much
like a first-year art student dismissing a painting by Jackson Pollack or
DeKooning (Guilty – hey, I was 18 and “uncultured”). Because at some point, you
have to buy in to something in order to “get” what makes it vital - you have to
say “yes” to something. You have to cross the threshold of belief. Otherwise,
it’s just no, no, no, and you don’t go anywhere. No Coltrane, no DeKooning, no
nothing - and so you end up knowing nothing.

And
if you bought into this Kirby universe as I did, you realized that you were
getting something truly original, something beyond mere style – something
internally consistent and authentic.

This
is a key point for me when I look at the work of any artist: Is the work
authentic?Is it real? If I “buy in” to
this or that artist’s vision, will it open up a door for me, or will I be left
holding the bag? How deep does it take me? And the horribly passé idea: Did the
artist care or was he or she just hacking it out?

When
I reflect on my own work, I can see the formal influence of Jack Kirby – the
fondness for chunky forms, the desire for blunt impact. But beyond these slim
stylistic similarities, Kirby’s work forces me to challenge myself – does this
feel real? If not, why not?

ABOUT THIS BLOG

A blog where invited artists show that they stand in a tradition by expressing their commitment to an inspiring, no longer living predecessor. Nothing But Good Should Be Said Of The Dead.
A blog by Michael de Kok, René Korten and Reinoud van Vught.